


Lost and Found

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, present-day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 07:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: While working with Ringo on their cover of John's song, "Grow Old With Me," Paul is overwhelmed by memories.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> So Paul and Ringo's cover of "Grow Old With Me" is coming soon, and I'm not prepared for all the feels that are about to happen.

After recording a few more takes of “Grow Old With Me” for Ringo’s upcoming album, Ringo and Paul moved to Ringo’s front porch for a break. They sat next to each other on a bench—not speaking, just sitting.

Paul looked up, trying to enjoy the gorgeous view. The afternoon sun lit up the sky, with only a few scattered clouds floating past. It should have been relaxing, Paul thought with a sigh.

“Look at that,” Ringo said, nudging Paul’s shoulder and pointing off into the distance. “That cloud looks like your eyes.”

Paul followed Ringo’s finger to a darker storm cloud on the horizon. “Why, because it’s dull and probably not as pretty as it used to be?” He tried to laugh at his own joke, but his laugh came out hollow.

Ringo gave him a concerned look. “No. Because it’s puffy and full of water.”

Turning away and fighting the urge to wipe his eyes, Paul sighed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Paul, what’s wrong?” Ringo asked, putting a hand on Paul’s knee.

Paul looked down at his hand as the first tear threatened to spill from his eye. “It’s just a lot of memories, you know?”

Ringo nodded and brushed his thumb across Paul’s kneecap.

“I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much—I mean, _god_, it’s been decades since….”

“I know.”

Even though he knew Ringo was trying to help, Paul couldn’t help but tense up at those words. ‘_I know._’ No, he didn’t know. No one would ever know how much John meant to him.

“I miss John and George, too,” Ringo continued. “Sometimes I think it’s all just an awful nightmare. There was one time, last year, when I was working on songs for the album, and I got a little melody in my head. I almost called George up to sing it for him to see what he thought, maybe ask if he wanted to work on it with me.”

Paul looked over at him. Despite the smile on Ringo’s face, he didn’t look happy. “Which song was that?” Paul asked.

“Don’t know. Couldn’t bring myself to write it.”

The wind picked up, blowing a few strands of Paul’s hair into his face and making him shiver. Overhead, the clouds began drifting faster. Ringo removed his hand from Paul’s leg and rested it between them on the bench.

“There’s just so much we never got to do,” Paul whispered.

Ringo breathed deeply in what Paul assumed was agreement, but he didn’t speak. After all, what was there to say? Their broken words couldn’t bring them back.

Paul’s vision started to blur. He had hoped that the wind would dry his tears, but it was only making it worse. Nothing ever went the way he wanted it to, did it?

“There’s a lot we _did _get to do, too.”

“What?” Paul asked.

“I mean,” Ringo continued, crossing his legs, “maybe we didn’t have as much time as we wanted to, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t time well spent. We were ‘livin’ the dream—’”

Paul snorted.

“—but not because of all the fame and fortune and whatnot. Because of the friendships.” He looked at Paul, and Paul met his gaze. “Most people probably don’t even get one friendship that’s that good. But we had three of them. And that’s something no one can take away from us.”

It wasn’t until he felt the teardrops falling onto his leg that Paul realized he was crying. Ringo must have noticed as well, because he grabbed Paul’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“I know I can’t fix it,” Ringo said, his voice beginning to break, “but I can help. And I can listen. I’ll do everything I can. Because you always do the same for me.”

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Paul nodded and put his second hand on top of Ringo’s. “Yeah.” It was true that Ringo would never understand exactly what Paul was going through, but he was a hell of a lot closer than anyone else could ever get.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "That cloud looks just like your eyes!"


End file.
